


A Mutually Beneficial Arrangement

by Black_piano_keys



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Bondage, Daddy Kink, Dom Chris Argent, Dom/sub, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Porn, Praise Kink, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Strapping, Sub Peter Hale, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy relationship that gets better with time, petopher
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 12:24:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3134372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_piano_keys/pseuds/Black_piano_keys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter and Chris work together to deal with their pain, guilt and regret.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Mutually Beneficial Arrangement

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moonlettuce (Claire)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claire/gifts).



> *handwaves at season 4 and pretends it doesn't exist*

An agreement to help them deal with their pain and rage--that’s how it had started. Chris thought about Peter’s face when he’d suggested a “mutually beneficial arrangement” between them. He raised his arm and brought the strap down across Peter’s back again, the leather leaving a satisfying red welt behind. It faded as Chris watched.

“Seventy-six.” Peter’s voice was much softer than when they’d begun. He knelt in front of Chris on his hands and knees, naked, hard, making a play at defiance that Chris would have none of.

He fisted his hand in Peter’s hair and snapped his head back. “What did you say?”

“Seventy-six,” Peter said only a little louder, gasping as Chris pulled harder.

“Oh, you’re aching for it tonight, aren’t you? _Say. It. Properly_.”

“ _Seventy-six_ ,” Peter said, finally the correct volume.

Chris let go of his hair and pushed his head back down where it had hung between his shoulders. He strapped Peter again, this time lower on his back, catching the tops of his buttocks.

“ _Seventy-seven_.”

This was born of guilt. Guilt and pain and regret. An arrangement that started with them hurting each other, then healing each other. Chris was never quite certain when the shift took place, when or how, but he no longer cared. This was something they both needed now, like it or not. He never could have imagined feeling that way when Peter had showed up at his door and suggested it.

* * *

 

He hadn’t even let the man into his home, had held the door only halfway open as if Peter’s werewolf strength couldn’t have stopped him if he’d tried to push the door closed.

After a few minutes, Peter crossed his arms and chuckled. “I’m not a vampire, you know. Not inviting me in doesn’t keep me out.”

“What does?”

“You not wanting me to come in.” Peter shrugged. “I’m not going to barrel past you and start touching all your things.”

“We're fine right here. You won't be staying long enough to sit down.”

“Fair enough.”

“What do you want, Hale?”

“Oooh. _Hale_. I thought maybe your newfound friendship with Derek would have allowed you to call me Peter.”

This man had killed his sister. His sister, who had used Derek to kill most of this man’s family. And god only knew what might have gone on between their families that Chris didn’t know. Didn’t want to know.

“ _Peter_. What do you want?”

Peter explained what he thought would be a mutually beneficial arrangement between them. At first, Chris balked. He tried. His mind raged against the idea, but his body . . . his body recognized a good idea when presented with one.

There’d never been any question that he found Peter attractive. If they had met as strangers somewhere and there had been an opportunity, he had no doubt they would have spent some time together. And even now when they were in close proximity, Chris could feel it, like an itch under his skin. They were drawn together somehow. Maybe by pain, by being broken into too many pieces.

Heat filled the space between them for _some_ reason, and Peter thought they could use that to give each other what they needed most.

“You get to hurt me. In doing so, I hurt you. We both need to pay in pain, and if we can find it ourselves to enjoy it . . . all the better.”

Chris shook his head and began to close the door.

“Don’t you think you owe me something? After what your sister did?”

“You killed her,” Chris ground out through closed teeth.

“One swipe across the throat. A quick, merciful end. Not like, oh, say, burning to death.” Peter turned to leave. “Your family owes mine, therefore you owe me. I think it’s the least you can do.”

Chris nearly had the door shut when Peter called back over his shoulder. “You know where to find me. Don’t take too long?”

He hadn’t. Once the idea was in his head, Chris couldn’t get rid of it. He didn’t really want to hurt Peter, and that was where the pain lay. Doing what Peter needed from him would cause him guilt, regret and pain, therefore increase the satisfaction for Peter.

It was a fucked-up arrangement, yet he barely hesitated when Peter turned his bare back to Chris for the first time and put his hands against the wall. They used whips back then. Studded straps. Things that cut, because Peter wanted to bleed.

He did, and healed as Chris watched, then split open and bled again. It was as bad, and good, as they both imagined. Even that first time, they’d ended up on the floor, Peter with his shoulders down and his ass in the air, grunting as Chris thrust into him, taking no care to be easy or provide pleasure. It was what Peter needed. What they both did.

Now, Peter didn’t bleed, didn’t take pleasure in Chris’ pain or demand things of him he knew would hurt him. He obeyed and found a calmness in trusting someone he once considered the enemy. Chris cherished that trust, and strived to find the balance between what Peter needed and what he needed to give to him.

He knew that in the beginning, part of what was so satisfying for both of them was that each of them was capable of killing the other. Chris could strap Peter down and get revenge if he truly wanted to, and Peter could easily overpower Chris and do the same. They _risked_ when they were together.

It wasn’t about that anymore, at least not to the same degree. They fulfilled each other’s needs. There was still plenty of pain, but now it was the build-up to pleasure rather than an end goal.

* * *

 

The strap brought up a particularly bright welt across Peter’s buttocks.

“ _Seventy-eight_.” His voice had gone soft again.

“On your knees,” Chris said, his voice low. “Hands up, mouth open.”

Peter raised up to his knees and held his hands up to his shoulders, obeying without hesitation. Chris put a heavy iron shackle around his neck, and match cuffs around his wrists, his cock throbbing as the little key snicked the locks into place. A chain ran from each wrist shackle to the neck piece, so that Peter couldn’t lower his hands.

“You know what’s coming.” Chris wasn’t asking, just talking. Peter knew better than to speak except to count blows or respond to direct questions. Peter was so clever, so quick, so he didn’t get to speak during these sessions with few exceptions. He had to learn to endure without with or sarcasm.

Peter obediently opened his mouth, letting his tongue slide out a bit, and closed his eyes. Chris slipped a toy out of his pocket and thumbed the switch, then touched the tip to the middle of Peter’s tongue with a tiny crackle. Peter yelped and jerked back from the shock, but kept his tongue out in offering and didn’t open his eyes.

Good boy,” Chris breathed. He stroked the fingertips of two fingers over Peter’s tongue, as if soothing the pain he’d just caused. He pinched one of Peter’s nipples hard and tugged at it, then he worked both at the same time, pinching and pulling.

“Mmm. Tell me what you want right now.”

“To suck your cock,” Peter said, then held his mouth open again. He groaned as Chris twisted his nipples.

“That’s not what you want, and we both know it.” He touched the tip of the toy to one of Peter’s nipples, licking his lips as Peter grunted and jerked back. He touched the other quickly, then slapped it against the tip of Peter’s tongue, drawing a grunt and a flinch each time. He touched it to the head of Peter's cock, rubbing himself through his tight jeans as Peter cried out at the contact, his whole body jerking in surprise.

“Tell me . . . what . . . you . . . _really_ . . . want.”

“For you to fuck my face. Choke me on your cock.”

“Oh, that’s so much better. I don’t like it when you lie to me. Open your eyes.”

Chris held the electric toy up so Peter could see it coming, then slowly lowered it until it touched his tongue. Peter jerked and cried out.

“Because you couldn’t tell the truth without goading, I’m not giving you what you want yet. You’re going to have to go slowly.” Chris grabbed the back of Peter’s head and pressed his face to Chris’ groin. He was so hard that he wanted to rush, wanted to grab the sides of Peter’s head and give him exactly what he wanted and needed. Instead, he let Peter rub his face and his mouth all over his jeans and the mound there.

“Suck me,” he ordered, his voice harsh and low. He let Peter struggled to open his jeans with his wrists chained so close to his neck, then hissed when Peter pulled his cock free. “Sharp teeth, and you’d better not so much as scratch me.”

Peter showed his teeth so Chris could see them lengthen and sharpen. Then Peter carefully took him into his mouth and slowly sucked.

“Take me all the way, that’s it . . . don’t you dare try to do it half-assed.” He held the electric toy over Peter’s shoulder in warning. If he felt the slightest scratch from a tooth, he would pull back and apply the toy to his tongue. Peter was always careful, because he hated the electric toy more than most. Hated and loved it.

Peter was especially careful today, and it had a strong effect on Chris. After a few minutes of slow, careful sucking, Chris shook his head. “Pull ‘em in.”

Chris grabbed Peter's hair and thrust, forcing his whole length into Peter’s mouth and throat. He held Peter there, his lips pressed against his lower stomach. “Fucking choke you on it. Is that what you want?”

Peter moaned around him, tried to nod. Both of Chris’ hands went to Peter’s hair. He pulled and pushed, sliding Peter’s mouth down the length of his cock back and forth, from the tip all the way to base, never stopping or slowing no matter how many clicking, coughing or gagging sounds came from Peter’s throat.

Peter struggled a little against the hands in his hair. He leaned back, as if trying to lever himself away from Chris. But it was all part of the play. If Peter wanted this to stop, Chris or a god damn army couldn’t hold him there. Peter reined himself in to allow this to happen, and no other human could possibly appreciate that quite the same way Chris did.

“Don’t you fight me,” he said, pulling viciously on Peter’s hair, causing him to struggle a little harder. “You just take what you’re given. What you deserve.”

He fucked Peter’s mouth, never letting up, watching the tears track from Peter’s eyes as he coughed and struggled to breathe while still both trying to suck and lean back as if to get away. Chris could never have done this with a human. Would never have. But Peter needed things a human couldn’t take, and Chris had long ago agreed to give them to him.

He shouted and came down Peter’s spasming throat, not releasing him until he’d unloaded every drop. Just like every time he did this, he thought no orgasm could or would ever top this one. Peter coughed and sucked in ragged breaths, nearly fell backward as if he’d been pulling away as Chris had let go.

“You’re my good boy, aren’t you? My good little cocksucker.” Chris cupped Peter’s face, then slapped him, hard, twice in a row on the same cheek. He gently stroked that same cheek and thumbed away a tear that ran toward the corner of his mouth.

Peter looked up at him, blinking and swallowing, still trying to catch his breath. The tears that filled his eyes from choking had mostly run down his face, his lips were red and puffy, his eyes dark with arousal. He was gorgeous.

“Look at you. Look how fucking beautiful you are.”

That was something that Chris could never have imagined he’d think, let alone say. But one day, just like this, he’d known what Peter had needed, and he’d looked down at him, and barely been able to breathe at how amazing he looked, kneeling there, tears in his eyes, putting everything into Chris’ hands. And just _needing_ so fucking much. Needing things only Chris could give him.

That day had been the first day Peter had knocked on his door and barged in the moment it was open. He never said a word, just went into Chris’ study and dropped to his knees and waited. He’d _needed_ so badly, and had come directly there to get rid of the burning under his skin.

Chris didn’t know if it was something that had happened between him and Derek, or if the pack had excluded him in the way they often did, insulted him, threatened him--Chris didn’t know, and Peter didn’t tell. He didn’t have to.

Waiting on his knees, trembling, bits of blue flickering in his eyes as he tried to control his breathing, Peter had whispered _please_. That had been all Chris needed to know. He’d ordered him to strip, and punished him for not thinking of that first, had tied him tightly and fucked his mouth just as he’d done now.

Chris dropped to his knees now and kissed Peter--a filthy, deep kiss that sucked Peter’s tongue far into his mouth. He grabbed Peter’s cock, so hard and leaking, and squeezed tighter than he’d have ever dared with a human. Peter gasped in pain.

“You want to come, boy?”

“ _Yes_.”

“Half-truth. Tell me what you really want.” Chris held tight to Peter’s dick and twisted as he wrapped his other arm around Peter’s back, pulling him close. Peter made a strangled sound and dropped his forehead to Chris’ shoulder. Chris twisted a little more while he stroked Peter’s back and rested his cheek against Peter’s sweaty hair.

“Tell me what you want, boy. What you need.” He bit down on Peter’s ear. “Be specific.”

“I’ve been bad, so make me wait? Until you’re hard again, then force me to come, when you’re inside me.  _Please_ . . . Daddy.”

He released his pressure on Peter’s cock, just holding it gently in his hand, and Peter practically slumped against him. There were few things sweeter than someone telling you exactly what they needed from you and trusting you to give it. “Oh, that’s my good, baby boy. That’s right. Tell Daddy exactly what you need, and Daddy’ll give it to you.”

Peter calling him Daddy always signified the shift when Peter needed more comfort than hurt. Chris never called himself Daddy until Peter did, never called him baby boy until it was clear he was ready for it. He was obviously there tonight.

“You’re so good, Peter. Such a good boy to want to wait for Daddy’s cock.”

Peter whimpered, but nodded, his head still on Chris’ shoulder. Chris knew the signs. Tonight Peter wanted the praise and the comfort, but he wanted the build-up even more drawn out than it already was.

Chris had no problem giving him that.

“On my bed, on your back.”

Peter rose and did as he was told, while Chris gathered the few things they’d need and tossed them on the bed. When Peter seemed as relaxed as a werewolf could be who’d been hard for as long as he had, Chris sat on the edge of the bed and showed him the length of rough rope he kept for just this purpose. He held one end just above Peter’s balls, and ran it up the underside of Peter’s cock.

Then he wrapped a loop tightly around the head and the rope, and spiraled it down, wrapping his cock tightly, mummy-like, until he’d reached the base. A small metal clip secured it in place just above his balls. 

Chris rubbed his fingertips over the wet, purple head, all that showed of Peter’s cock now that it was wrapped securely. Peter whimpered and squirmed, but Chris didn’t stop.

“Such a pretty little cock you have, baby boy. So sensitive.” He leaned over and flicked the tip of his tongue against the slit, then slid it all over the tight flesh he’d left exposed. “Daddy wants to play with it a while.”

He carefully slid a small condom down over Peter’s rope-wrapped cock to tighten the pressure even more, and then produced a toy they’d enjoyed many times in this same way. He wrapped his hand tightly around the handle and pushed the end of it against Peter's cockhead. The firm but pliable material gave enough that he could push it all the way down until it pressed against his lower stomach.

“Oh, baby boy, what a tight squeeze. Don’t you come while Daddy plays. Not yet. Fuck into it, but don’t let yourself come.” He lifted the toy and pushed down, jacking Peter off inside it, knowing that it was ecstasy and agony mixed, and just what Peter needed the most.

Peter whimpered and writhed on the bed, both fucking into the toy and trying to pull away from it as Chris forced it down his cock again and again. Peter’s hands were fists, sometimes jerking against the chains that held them close to his neck, as if forgetting he couldn’t reach down and stop the relentless pressure and stimulation. He licked his lips, then gasped and breathed through his open mouth before biting his lips and licking them again.

Chris loved keeping him on edge like this. He loved that _Peter_ loved it. His body responded to him doling out the torment, too. He was far from hard again, but he would be getting there soon enough. Peter had that effect on him. When Peter’s writhing and the noises he made seemed to reach a fever pitch, Chris leaned over him and slowed the movement of the toy. “Want me stop, boy?”

Peter nodded without speaking at first. When Chris resumed his faster pace with the toy, Peter cried out. “ _Yes_ , Daddy. Please.”

Chris held his mouth was right above Peter’s. He didn’t slow the toy, but practically slammed it down on Peter’s cock again and again. “Please, more? Is that what you want, baby? More of this?”

He nipped at Peter’s lips, slipping his tongue between them and kissing him as Peter tried to talk.

“No, Daddy. No more.”

“More?” He covered Peter’s mouth with his own, biting away the words and sucking his tongue. He didn’t pause pumping the toy on his cock. It had to be nearly impossible to bear without coming now.

“ _No_ , Daddy. No more. Please, no more. _Please stop_ , Daddy. Please.”

It wasn’t easy to understand with Chris swallowing the words, but he knew Peter had said it right. “No more, baby boy. No more.”

He slowly slid the toy off Peter’s cock, followed by the condom. Peter’s chest heaved as he tried to pull back from the edge. Chris licked the tip of his cock, making him cry out in surprise.

“Look what you’re doing to Daddy,” he breathed, lifting his now mostly hard cock. “Don’t have to wait much longer. Get on your knees and show me what that pretty mouth was made for.”

When Chris motioned to the floor in front of where he sat on the bed, Peter scrambled up and dropped to his knees. Chris leaned back on his elbows and watched while Peter licked up the length on all sides, worked his balls out of his pants and sucked them into his mouth one at a time, laved the entire area. He had Chris fully hard before he even sucked the length of him in.

“Just sucked me not very long ago and you’re already starving for cock again. Baby boy needs a pacifier.” Chris shivered at how filthy that sounded coming from his mouth, and how great it made him feel. And how Peter responded to it by sucking him as if his cock was the most delicious thing he’d ever known.

“That’s it.” He stroked Peter’s hair, but didn’t grab it or hold him in place. He let him indulge. “Get Daddy ready. Get me close. You’re so fucking perfect.”

Peter whimpered around his cock, and that was it. He was there. He pushed Peter back and slid two fingers into his mouth. Peter sucked just as he had his cock, his eyes falling closed. He looked as relaxed as he’d ever seen him despite what had to be the intense strain of holding back, not to mention the pressure of the rope still around his cock.

“Do what Daddy likes.”

Peter got onto the bed, his shoulders down, on his knees, ass in the air, legs spread. Chris stroked his hip, then gave it a smack. ‘Good boy.”

Chris didn’t take his jeans off, just pulled them a little more down his hips and out of the way. He lubed his hand and stroked it up his cock, but only pushed two fingers inside of Peter to quickly spread a little luge. He wanted to feel Peter split open around his cock tonight, with no other preparation.

Chris knelt behind him and pressed his cockhead against the waiting pucker. He gave one ass cheek a hard smack. “You know what Daddy wants you to do.”

Peter groaned and pushed back, impaling himself on Chris’ length until their bodies pressed together.

“You feel so good around me, baby. So hot and tight. I could stay like this for hours.”

Peter gasped. Chris had done that to him before, stayed inside him, ordering him not to move, until _he_ couldn’t manage it anymore. It had been a kind of torture for both of them at the time, but when they’d finally given in, it had been bliss.

“I won’t tonight. Not if you tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me, Daddy,” Peter begged, his voice hoarse. “Please, fuck me hard.”

Peter hadn’t even hesitated, and that pleased Chris enough that there'd be no more waiting. Chris grabbed Peter’s hips and snapped his own back, then thrust forward again. Their bodies slapped together as he fucked Peter fast and hard, building up to his own orgasm first so he could control Peter’s and bring them over together.

“I believe we were working through 100 lashes when you distracted me earlier by counting too softly, weren’t we?” He pounded into Peter.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Let’s finish that now. Count _properly_.” He picked up the strap he’d brought in with the other items and thrown on the bed. Without breaking rhythm, he brought it down hard across Peter’s back.

“ _Seventy-nine_.”

Chris dug his fingers into Peter’s hips. “Wrong.”

“ _Seventy . . . seventy-eight_?”

Chris smacked his buttock hard and thrust twice, double-time. He reached down and grabbed the clip that held the rope tightly wrapped around Peter’s cock. “ _Wrong!_ ”

He could feel the realization wash through Peter like a wave, his body jerking with it, the satisfaction and excitement and _need_.

“ _One_ ,” Peter shouted, as Chris pinched the clip to allow the rope to loosen and move on his cock. He snapped his hips forward and grunted as he spilled deep within Peter’s body, and Peter growled, his back arching down and then up as his orgasm hit, ripping out of him. Chris wrapped his hand tightly around the rope and pulled, stroking him as best he could throughout it.

Peter thrust and thrust and thrust, his body milking Chris as he released over and over, his movements uncontrollable as the pleasure tore through him.

He was nearly sobbing by the end, Chris squeezing and stroking him longer than necessary, until it was almost more torture than pleasure.

“Shhh, my good boy,” Chris whispered, pressing kisses to the back of Peter’s shoulders and where he could reach his neck above the shackle. “So perfect, so good . . . .”

The shackles and the rope were tossed aside as Chris pulled Peter against him, his chest to Peter’s back. He kissed his neck and stroked his lower stomach around his cock, careful not to touch it now.

“Thank you, Daddy,” Peter whispered as Chris snuffled and whispered praise into his ear. They would fall asleep like that, and Peter would be gone by morning, if this were a typical night. He might be back tomorrow, or next week, or maybe not for two.

And it was just a matter of time before he stayed away too long, and Chris would go to find _him_ for the first time. He'd still be the one demanding and ordering, he wouldn’t drop to his knees like Peter,  but he'd be just as desperate for it as if he did. He'd be the one begging, never mind who held the strap and the keys. 

He bit lightly on Peter's neck and closed his eyes. They were so fucked up, but it was so good, and he had so little good left in his life. He'd hang on to this as long as he could. 


End file.
